


Bad Dream

by vanitypride



Series: Naegami OneShot Series (October 2018) [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Danganronpa
Genre: M/M, Naegami, One Shot, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 20:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16291100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitypride/pseuds/vanitypride
Summary: There really was no way they’d get locked up in Hope’s Peak and forced to participate in some killing game under the direction of some new headmaster who wasn’t even human. The notion of it was beyond far-fetched, and now that he thought about it, Makoto wasn’t quite sure how his mind had fabricated all of that.





	Bad Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Because this oneshot turned out to be a little longer than expected, I will keep this note short. Haha. (Plus there are end notes for this work.) Basically I envision this oneshot taking place in the same setting as my previous work. You’ll see when you get there. ;)
> 
> And of course, Danganronpa is not my original work. That credit goes to Spike Chunsoft. I do not profit from this piece, nor do I claim any copyright to the characters involved.

  
_*Ding dong, bing bong*_

The sound of school bells rang throughout all of Hope’s Peak, even resonating in each individual dormitory.

 _Was it really that time already?_ A certain boy with disheveled light brown hair internally groaned to himself. His eyes remained closed, the mere thought of trying to open them too much of a nuisance. So instead of making the effort to get up, the boy just snuggled more into his bed as if the mere contact would promptly set him back to sleep.

Far from it in fact. But it was an entirely different factor that was to blame, and that was the sound of Monokuma’s cheerfully morbid, sing-songy voice as he recited the daily morning greeting...

_“Good morning, everyone! It is now 7 a.m. and nighttime is officially over! Time to rise and shine! Get ready to greet another beee-yutiful day!”_

Makoto Naegi didn't even need to turn around to look at what was on the television screen behind him. He had seen the announcement enough times already that the images were unfortunately committed to memory.

The television always turned on by itself right after the bells tolled, more than likely due to some automated system of sorts. Static filled the screen for a split second before the Hope’s Peak emblem came into view within the grey fuzziness. The word ‘High School’ was in an arched banner toward the bottom of the logo. The arch itself was actually part of a circle that rose out from the top feathers of a pair of wings. At the center of these wings was a shield, containing criss-crossing images of a fountain pen and scar at its center. The white --more of a faded tea green-- and grey-black background of the shield almost looked like a sample size of a distorted chessboard. And fittingly, a king’s crown rested at the head of the logo.

That image soon vanished and gave way to a video of Monokuma in what appeared to be a control room. Various illuminated screens served as a backdrop, two computer monitors atop an office desk flanking either side of the bear. As usual he was depicted sitting back in his executive chair, elbows reposing on the armrests. His left paw was in possession of a cocktail glass while his right one propped up his slightly tilted face.

His hideous, malicious-looking face.

Even if the one side appeared to be innocent, it was completely for show. This evil creature thrived on seeing the look of despair on the students’ faces, seeing them in anguish because they so desperately wanted to get out of their cruel imprisonment. Some of them had even gone as far as falling right into Monokuma’s trap, taking the motive they had been offered and using it as their drive to commit cold-blooded murder. However, in the end, these killers eager for escape were only met by a fate of their own _punishment_.

Thinking back to all the people they’d lost so far, Makoto couldn’t fathom the idea of sleeping anymore. Not when he vividly remembered the crime scenes they’d had to thoroughly investigate or the merciless punishments Monokuma forced them to witness at the end of each trial.

Plus, lying around in bed and dwelling on the deceased wasn’t going to do anything to help matters. If he was going to avenge their deaths, if he was going to seek justice for all of them, then he had to get up and do something about it.

With that motivation in mind Makoto finally sat up, pajama-clad legs dangling over the side of the bed before he planted his soles to the ground. His arms rose above his head for a moment as he stretched out his back. Fingers then found their way to the mattress’ edge, serving as propellers to help lift him to his feet.

Wasting no time the high schooler began to undress, doing his best to ignore the surveillance camera in the room. He tossed his nightwear on the bed and snatched up his usual outfit, which had been folded over the back of his desk chair. Like his pajamas, he threw his jacket and hoodie onto the bed, only holding on to the black pants that he proceeded to slip into one leg at a time. Once he pulled up the pants’ waistband to level with his own waist, he zipped and buttoned it up. Grabbing hold of the hoodie next, he about slipped it on in similar fashion minus any buttoning. Lastly, he picked up and put on the black suit jacket, leaving it unbuttoned like he tended to do.

Sitting at his desk, he drew a fresh pair of socks from the bottom drawer and slipped those onto his feet before ramming them into his sneakers one after the other. After a quick readjustment of both heel notches, Makoto was now ready to go and meet up with his friends at their usual breakfast meeting. As he got up, he noticed the door to his bathroom from his peripheral vision. He probably had time to shower as he got up pretty early this morning compared to other days, but he would just save it for later.

As Makoto emerged from his room, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at the door across the way and one room over to the right. Of course, that dormitory belonged to Byakuya Togami. His relationship with the affluent progeny was quite the interesting one.

At the start, Byakuya had been very curt with him, only divulging in necessary conversation. The prestigious boy valued alone time over interacting with any of their fellow peers. This was further reinforced when he discovered the library on the second floor, which was more than likely where he was at right now. In other words it would be pointless for Makoto to knock or ring the doorbell, much less expect an answer and see the blond open the door. Even though that wouldn't happen, Makoto could just picture himself getting an earful as to why he would dare ruin the other’s beauty sleep for the day.

A smile graced his lips as he envisioned the scenario. He knew the other boy could be harsh, but it was just part of his nature. And Byakuya had actually grown to be more gentle, at least with him. After all, Makoto seemed to be the only one who made any effort to ever talk to Byakuya.

Makoto knew that Byakuya was annoyed with it at first, but he never entirely pushed him away. He could’ve, but he didn't. Makoto thus figured that maybe the others misunderstood Byakuya, almost as if they were the ones who didn't want to interact with him in the first place. So Makoto brought it upon himself to get to know Byakuya better, to reassure him in a way that he wasn't alone and could count on him as a friend.

Little by little he had broken past the strong barrier that Byakuya had put up, eventually working his way into the boy’s heart. Just as Byakuya had so easily worked his way into his own. And it wasn’t something either of the two were expecting, especially in this situation -- _this killing game_ \-- they found themselves in.

It seemed as if it were just yesterday that it all happened…

The pair had been in the library. Byakuya was seated at the dark mahogany desk like usual, book in hand and a cup of coffee within arm’s reach atop the wooden surface. The small lamp he always used was connected via the extension cord to the wall outlet, granting him better illumination as he read the small font of the particular novel he was studying for the day.

Makoto, on the other hand, sat in the chair across the way from the bookworm. He was keeping quiet at Byakuya’s demand, and having nothing better to do eventually decided to grab up a paperback of his own. Unlike his fellow companion, Makoto wasn’t as invested in his book and would occasionally steal glances of the other boy. Byakuya was so focused in what he was reading, seeming to lose himself in another world. If only that could be a simple solution, an easy way out for them from this hell hole. But no matter how much he wished it, Makoto knew it wouldn’t work.

Shaking that impossible thought from his mind, the hazel-eyed boy began to take notice of Byakuya’s features. The way his face leaned into his free palm, elbow propped up on the desk to support the weight. The way his facial muscles looked relaxed, eyebrows occasionally knitting together when trying to make sense of something. The way he slightly nodded his head to affirm to himself that he had understood what he read. The way those blue eyes studiously scanned line after line across the page as he processed the information. The way those blue eyes bore into his own, as if they could search deep into his soul…

Wait, what?

It finally registered in Makoto’s mind that he had been caught like a deer in headlights gazing at the other boy. He grew embarrassed, eyes widening and lips slightly quivering at having been so obvious. His palms grew sweaty, hands wringing together as a result of his nervousness. Before he could even offer an apology, he was already being snapped at.

“What the hell are you looking at?” The timbre of Byakuya’s voice was echoed by the sharp sound the book produced at being shut. A gentler thud soon followed as the novel was lowered to the desk. His hand that set it down rested atop the cover. Unlike Makoto, Byakuya was not fazed in the least. His poker face was perfectly intact, mouth set in its usual thin line and eyes narrowed as he awaited an answer.

Intimidated by the far too long gaze, Makoto immediately darted his eyes away.

“I, umm, I’m sorry...” It wasn’t exactly an ideal response, but Makoto supposed it was better than nothing. And perhaps it was best to keep it short, otherwise who knows what nonsense he’d spout if he tried to get wordy.

“Be more confident. And don’t slouch.” Without needing to look at him, Makoto could tell the other student had folded his arms over his chest simply by hearing the shift of clothes in the silence of the library.

Abruptly straightening up at the command, Makoto nodded and replied with a little more oomph to his voice. “Yes, sir.” His eyes trailed up to lock with Byakuya’s, to show that he was trying to embrace his confidence.

The young heir’s face remained in its fixed frown, releasing a little annoyed exhale through his nose. His eyes studying the boy in front of him for a moment.

“Why do you insist on spending time with me?” He finally asked.

Makoto tilted his head in a silent query. What brought this on all of a sudden? He figured he’d get more context by simply answering the question. “Because I like spending time with you.”

Eyes narrowed a bit, eyebrows furrowing as the blond tried to make sense of the other boy's response. “We hardly talk at all.”

Byakuya made a good point. It’s true they hardly spoke to one another, but Makoto didn't mind. He just liked being with the other boy.

“Well then I like keeping you company, I guess.” The brunet felt small and shy as he uttered that response, but perhaps that would be a more appealing answer for Byakuya's ears? He certainly hoped so, his eyes showcasing that inner feeling.

But it unfortunately wasn't enough to satisfy the heir.

“Why?”

So much could be packed into that one word. Perhaps he was questioning why the other student felt compelled to keep him company? And for what purpose?

Thinking of nothing better to say, Makoto gently replied, “Because I don’t like seeing you be lonely.”

Byakuya immediately scoffed at that. “It’s not that I’m lonely. I just don’t appreciate wasting my time at some senseless breakfast meeting only to hear redundancies of things I’ve already discovered myself.”

This was clearly going nowhere. They were running around in endless circles, and Byakuya decided in that moment that he’d had enough of Makoto for the day. “In fact, why don’t you go ahead and see yourself out.” It was more a direct statement than a request.

“Huh?” Makoto wasn't sure if he’d heard correctly. Surely this couldn't be the end of their conversation. He’d assumed that Byakuya was going to keep questioning him until he got the answer he seeked, whatever that may be. But the termed ‘lucky student’ had been wrong in his assumptions and only managed to irk the other boy if anything.

“I wish to be by myself now, so leave.” Byakuya’s tone had suddenly grown more forceful and stern, mimicking the expression on his face.

Makoto felt strangely guilty at the words; he didn’t want to end things on a bad note. There had to be some way he could make it up to Byakuya. “But why? I promise I’ll be quiet if that’s what you--”

“Stand up,” the young businessman interjected as he issued his command.

Makoto could tell that Byakuya wasn’t playing games right now, and he wasn’t about to defy him either. He quickly rose to his feet without a second’s hesitation, pushing in the chair he was no longer going to be using. In that moment, the other boy must have gotten up because he was rounding the desk and approaching him.

Growing oddly nervous at the sight, the shorter student began to step back until he collided with the bookshelf behind him. A startled gasp soon escaped him as Byakuya leaned in close, hovering over him and planting his arms against the neatly-shelved books so as to trap Makoto in place.

Pressing his lips close to Makoto’s ear, he queried hushly but with a harsh bite to his tone, “What will it take for you to understand that I don’t want you here?”

Makoto knew he should've probably felt scared, threatened even, but his body was reacting in a completely different way. He found their new position to be rather exhilarating. It was the closest they had ever stood to each other, their bodies nearly pressing together. And the way the other boy’s hot breath ghosted over his ear sent shivers down his spine. His legs felt wobbly like gelatin, and the growing need between his legs was making him feel a bit uncomfortable, constricted--

No, _No_! Now wasn’t the time for that. Where had that idea even come from? Was it possible that he liked Byakuya as more than a friend? Is that why he insisted on spending a little time with him each day? Makoto started to internally panic, even going as far as to flinch when he felt fingers tap up his chin.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Makoto gasped at seeing Byakuya’s face so close to his, those blue eyes seeming to read right through him as if they could latch on to his perverse thoughts. At this, Makoto nervously swallowed down a lump, feeling his cheeks flush with utter embarrassment. Why was Byakuya doing this to him? What point was he trying to make? Surely he could’ve done it without positioning them like this.

“Don’t you understand that you’re a distraction? All you do is pester me with your presence. Because all I can think about when I’m trying to read is that you’re here. I’m constantly plagued by thoughts of you and I don’t get it at all.” The socialite’s words dripped with slight disgust, yet his actions defied him as his hands soon found themselves gripping the commoner’s biceps. “What are you doing to me, Makoto? Explain yourself.”

Makoto winced a little at the tightening hold. He didn’t know how he could possibly provide answers to any of that. What exactly was he putting Byakuya through? It wasn’t something he could pinpoint; Byakuya was the sole owner of his thoughts, so he’d have to sort through them himself. Makoto couldn’t help him in any way, no matter how much he would have liked to.

“Well?” From the cold and calculating look on Byakuya’s face, Makoto could tell the taller boy was expectant, impatient. Luckily it wasn’t enough to make the Togami heir grip him harder; instead, the grasp had softened a bit.

“Well,” Makoto did his best to stay calm and unbothered by their prolonged locked gaze. “What is it I’m doing to you exactly?”

Byakuya seemed to ponder that for a moment. Something in his eyes was different, and while Makoto tried deciphering what it was, the moment didn't last long. The cold stare made its far too prompt return, and then Byakuya leaned in closer still.

Makoto knew his face must have turned red at this point, feeling himself be scrutinized under a microscope as a result of the other boy’s sudden action. “Bya-Byakuya,” he stuttered nervously, “wh-why are you--?”

“Quiet,” the boy bit back. “Now close your eyes.”

Before the brunet could even protest or ask why, Byakuya quickly delivered his demand. “Just do it.”

Makoto did as told, feeling more exposed in this manner than if he’d been looking into Byakuya’s eyes. The silence surrounding him felt unending, nothing seemed to be happening, so why--

Makoto released an unsolicited gasp. He felt something on his mouth. It was soft and tender, perfectly melding with his own lips that started to move of their own accord. He even picked up on a coffee-like scent.

Wait…

Was this...?

Was this Byakuya?

Makoto wanted so badly to open his eyes and confirm that it was in fact the other boy kissing him, but who else would it be if not Byakuya? They were the only two in this room, and the affluent progeny tended to make sure of that. Even if someone wanted to come grab a book to read, Byakuya would quickly cast them aside and demand they leave.

Besides, Makoto didn’t want to ruin the moment. It felt so nice, so good, to feel Byakuya’s lips on his own. He would make the most of it until one of them needed to pull back and catch some air. Only then would he open his eyes...

“Makoto! Makoto!” A voice filled with desperation cried out at him, pulling him out of his reminiscent daydream.

Hazel eyes darted quickly in the direction of where the voice was coming from. It was Hina. She was running frantically towards him, panic clearly written on her face. Her eyes were wide open and horror-struck, a pallor covering her usually tanned skin.

“Come quick,” she said past her hurried and shallow breathing, taking a hold of his hand. “It’s horrible!”

Not bothering to wait for a response, the brunette started to drag him along with her. Makoto offered no resistance. He didn’t want to hold her back, especially when she looked so anguished. Instead, he sped up his pace so he could catch up to the athletic girl and run alongside her.

What happened to set Hina so on edge? Had she discovered something? Or had Monokuma perhaps presented them with some other sickening motive? Did the mastermind behind all of this have no restraint? Was he really going to keep inciting these murders until only one of them was left?

His angered brooding was brought to a temporary halt as he realized they were climbing the stairs. Makoto quickly deduced that they weren’t headed to the gymnasium. That meant there was no motive to go see or hear about, but then again, he would have heard an announcement on it if that had been the case. So what could possibly be upstairs? Makoto found it best to ask the girl; she knew what was going on after all.

“Hey Hina, where are we going? What--?”

As if she could read his mind, she promptly replied. “It happened again…”

Makoto’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He didn’t need further context of those words or the tone in which they had been spoken; it was evident that another murder had taken place. He could even see a tear forming at the edge of a blue eye, Hina’s words replaying in his mind. He recalled how her voice cracked a little, sounding as if she were about to cry. One of their fellow peers had fallen victim once again, but who was it this time?

Focusing back on where it was Hina was leading him to, he started to recognize the all-too familiar path they were taking. The pair had just reached the second floor, flying past the set of steps that led up to the third. That left only the library or classroom 2-B as their final destination, and Makoto found himself hoping, wishing, praying that they would end up going to the latter. With his sights set on the classroom, he charged forward only to be pulled back by Hina.

“No, it’s in here,” she said as they stood directly in front of the door leading to the library.

Makoto felt his heart stop. There was no way it could be in here. He refused to believe it!

But, could he even be certain that it was Byakuya who was in there? Surely it could be someone else. Perhaps Byakuya really was in his room, fast asleep and safe, while the victim who lay beyond the door was one of their other classmates.

The click of the opening door alerted his senses, bringing him back to reality...

This was it. This was the moment to see who was the latest victim in this depraved game. Hina, who had opened the door, was holding it for him so he could step in and take a look for himself.

Makoto braced himself, taking in a deep breath before taking his first step, then another. He took a few more steps into the room… And that’s when his eyes locked onto the ungodly sight in front of him.

Just across the way, hung a few inches above the ground and pinned in place to the wall beside the archive room door, was Byakuya. He was covered in hefty amounts of his own blood, head drooped down and body perfectly still. Multiple scissors were stabbed into different parts of his body, namely one in either mutilated wrist, one in either side of his ribcage and one in his neck. A total of five scissors marred his once unblemished body, damaging and soiling the suit that he always kept in orderly fashion. And they weren't just any scissors either; they all had the same distinct shape at the handle and surrounding the finger holes. Lastly, there was a word largely and near-perfectly stenciled onto the door next to the crucified corpse, and the source used to create it was Byakuya's own blood.

_BLOOD LUST_

There was only one person who could have done this, one person that Byakuya and Makoto had read about in the archive room once. This murderous fiend was known for their trademark killings, the crime scenes always complete with these particular aspects. The killer was none other than Genocide Jack, and it appeared that he was here on school grounds. A serial killer had worked their way into Hope’s Peak.

Or... perhaps that serial killer was one of them.

But who? Who could it be? And who could have committed this _atrocity_?

Makoto was in such complete and utter shock, body frozen in place, unable to draw his eyes away from his beloved no matter how much it hurt to see him like this.

He had lost Byakuya, and not as a result of some stupid fight or heart-wrenching break up. Makoto could have braved it enough to deal with either of those consequences. But _this_? This was so much worse. Makoto had lost Byakuya _forever_. It wasn’t some dream he could simply wake up from, no matter how much he wished it. And it wasn’t some video game either in which he could access an old save file or restart the game. There was no second opportunity, no chance to go back in time and bring him back.

Byakuya was _gone_.

It was so hard to endure those words. Tears had since formed in Makoto’s eyes, blurring his vision. A painful lump had started to grow in his throat, his lips slightly parted as he shook his head in disbelief.

As if that weren’t enough pain to bear already, the dreaded sound of high-pitched school bells suddenly echoed throughout the room, followed by the ever more disturbing announcement.

_*Ding dong, ding dong*_

_“A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like, the class trial will begin!”_

The television that hung precisely above the deceased student had lit up the room with the sickly image of a joyous-looking Monokuma, making the crime scene below it look all the more eerie in its emanating blue-green light.

Makoto couldn’t hold back anymore, head bowing down and body wracking as one sob after another spilled forth. His shoulders heaved as tears streamed down his face and fell to the carpet at his feet. He reached up a hand to cover his mouth as he cried, the free hand at his side curling into a tight fist. This had all gotten so real just now, hearing the blasted voice of Monokuma confirm his greatest fear.

Byakuya really was dead, and what was worse is that Makoto didn’t even get to give him a proper goodbye. Makoto had lost that chance the moment the killer decided to act so mercilessly.

It hurt Makoto so deeply that he would never get to see Byakuya again. Never get to hear his voice again. Never get to hold him again... or kiss him. Just as Hina had ripped away his daydream from him so too had Genocide Jack by fulling taking Byakuya from him. What he wouldn’t give for a final, long embrace. Or one final kiss. And maybe he still could.

Gaining enough courage and strength, Makoto finally began to close the distance between them until he was standing right in front of the lifeless boy. Byakuya hovered over him a bit more than usual, the tips of his dress shoes barely touching the ground. Dull, expressionless blue eyes looked down on him, no signs of life left in them anymore. That alone broke Makoto even more, sending him into a frenzy.

Not caring about getting blood on himself or altering the crime scene, Makoto pressed his body against Byakuya’s. His chin rested against the reddened white shirt as he kept his gaze on the other boy’s face, doing his best to ignore the scissors in his peripheral vision and the lack of body warmth beneath the soiled suit. His hands desperately tightened into fists around the jacket, his way of clinging onto the boy he cared so much for, even though he was long gone.

“No! No, Byakuya!” His voice cracked, echoing how his spirit had been crushed by the mastermind and Byakuya’s murderer. “You can’t, you can’t be dead! Please, come back to me, please!” More tears and sobs poured forth through the agonizing pleas.

The sound of hurried footsteps came up from behind him, and soon enough Makoto felt a pair of arms wrap gently around him, the voice calling to him one he immediately recognized. It was Kyoko, and she was trying to pull him away from Byakuya. “Makoto, I know this is difficult for you, but you need to cal--”

“No! Let go!” Makoto shouted as he tried to shrug her off. “Let me stay with him, please!”

“Makoto, we need time to investigate,” she replied sternly but calmly against the boy’s ear. “I need to examine his body.”

“No, I won’t let you!” He cried more forcefully this time. His hands released their hold on Byakuya and were now trying to pry off the girl’s arms from his body. “No one is getting near him! So back off!”

“Makoto,” she tried again, keeping an even tighter hold of him. “You have to listen to reason. He’s gone. He’s not--”

“Stop it, Stop it, Stop it!” Makoto was going mad, in both the sense of anger and hysteria. His body started flailing around as he tried to get her off of him, resisting against the girl as she attempted to drag him away. “Let go of me!”

“Makoto, stop it!” She finally broke in a shout, hoping that by leveling with him she would get him to understand. “Stop it now!”

“ _Makoto..._ ”

“ _Makoto._ ”

“ _Makoto!_ ”

“Huh?” Makoto immediately bolted awake, having felt himself get shaken about. He realized in that moment that he was still in bed and actually hadn’t gotten up for the day yet. He was in his room, still in his pajamas though they currently didn’t feel very comfortable. He had worked up a sweat in them, the wet fabric of the t-shirt much too cool against his back for his taste. Heavy panting emanated from his mouth, breathing a bit altered, and heart beating wildly against his chest.

It wasn’t until he had processed all of this that he finally noticed he wasn’t alone in the room, nor alone on the bed. There was someone beneath him holding him close and it felt so comforting, so safe to be in this embrace. Tilting his head back to gain sight of who it was lying underneath him, Makoto was beyond relieved to see that it was in fact the boy who had captivated his heart.

Byakuya was _safe_.

Byakuya was _alive_.

No harm had befallen him, and Makoto couldn’t count enough lucky stars to match the amount of gratitude he felt at seeing life in his beloved’s eyes, vigor written all over his face.

“You’re okay,” Makoto sighed in relief as he snuggled closer to Byakuya, relishing in the body heat that radiated from him as opposed to how it had been in the dream. “Oh my God, you’re okay.” At this point Makoto had his face buried into Byakuya’s chest, arms wrapping around the taller boy’s waist.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn't I be?” Byakuya had asked at first, his chin resting gently atop the crown of messy brown hair. Finding his response to be a bit cold perhaps, he began to move his hand up and down Makoto's back. His other hand found its way to the smaller boy’s scalp, the pads of his fingers gently massaging it. This was all done in an effort to try and comfort the boy he cared deeply for. “It’s you I’m more worried about. You were tossing around and shouting.”

“I just, had a bad dream,” Makoto replied softly, his cheek now pressed against the fabric of Byakuya’s long-sleeved pajama top. “It all felt so real…” The boy found himself trailing off, hesitating, unsure if he should reveal all the details of it.

Of course it had been a bad dream. Byakuya had quickly deduced that as the only possibility, explaining why Makoto suddenly had a shift from peaceful slumber to tossing and turning in bed. The heir was thankful they decided to spend the night together that way he could be there for his boyfriend to help soothe him in the aftermath. “Do you want to talk about it? It might do you good to release it and let it go.”

“You think so?” The adorable brunet asked as he leaned back his head again, his hazel eyes peering up at its blue partners.

Byakuya gave a soft nod. “Mm-hm.”

At the confirmation, Makoto began to recount his nightmare from the strange morning announcement at the start of it to the fact that they seemed to have gotten their memories erased. Makoto had just assumed that was the case because he felt that he and Byakuya were meeting for the very first time in this strange, new school setting. Of course it was still Hope’s Peak, the hallways and rooms looking the same, but there was something eerily different about it. Perhaps it was the silence that permeated all around, a complete 180 to their normal, bustling school life. And in this particular dream, Makoto recalled various of his classmates having died, either because they got murdered or executed. The outcome for both kinds of deaths equally as brutal and devastating.

But what had shaken him up most of all was losing Byakuya, seeing the boy so vividly and grotesquely slaughtered in his dream. Remembering the images as he described them aloud made Makoto tremble. He clung tighter to the other student as if any moment now someone would rip Byakuya away from him for real.

As if the progeny could sense that thought passing through Makoto’s mind, he pressed his lips to the shorter boy’s forehead, holding him closer still. “No one is going to take me away from you, Makoto. I won’t die.”

“I know, but--”

Makoto’s protest was shut down as the other boy leaned down to sweetly claim his lips, the hand once in his hair gently cupping his cheek. Pure bliss and warmth blossomed within the ultimate lucky student as he closed his eyes and reciprocated the kiss.

The initiator of the liplock soon pulled back, his thumb stroking the soft skin of Makoto’s face as his eyes held the other’s gaze. “Enough of that, okay? Your dream was simply that, a dream. Nothing more. There’s no way any of that would ever happen.”

Light brown orbs darted back and forth between their azure counterparts, taking note of the confidence radiating from them as their owner spoke. Makoto ultimately found himself agreeing with the other student. There really was no way they’d get locked up in Hope’s Peak and forced to participate in some killing game under the direction of some new headmaster who wasn’t even human. The notion of it was beyond far-fetched, and now that he thought about it, Makoto wasn’t quite sure how his mind had fabricated all of that. Perhaps the stress of this semester combined with their upcoming finals contributed their share to this ludicrous fantasy his subconscious had come up with.

The pensive student was soon drawn out of his thoughts as he felt a second hand caress his other cheek, another forehead connecting with his own. “Promise me you’ll get more sleep? It’s far too early to get up for class.”

Makoto nodded the best he could. “I’ll try.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the blond continued, his hands running down his partner’s arms before one of them finally wrapped itself around the smaller boy’s waist, the other reclaiming its place on Makoto’s upper back. “I’ll hold you through the night, and you’ll still find me here in the morning.”

“Okay,” Makoto replied softly, a small smile playing at his lips.

A hint of a smile graced Byakuya’s lips in turn. He wanted nothing more than Makoto’s restored calm and happiness. As he cradled the brunet’s head to his chest, the young heir cast his eyes to the ceiling of Makoto’s dorm. He didn’t plan on falling asleep again until he could feel a steady rhythm of the other boy’s heartbeat, a telltale sign of pleasant reposing.

With his mind at work, it would be hard for Byakuya to give into sleep anytime soon. He couldn’t help but think back to all the details of the dream his precious boy just had, more specifically that last part about the Genocide Jack-style killing. He didn’t plan on mentioning it, and he decided tonight that he wouldn’t ever bring it up. He didn’t need Makoto worrying any more than he could handle.

Just last week, Byakuya had a similar dream to this one, but the victim hadn’t been himself.

It had been Makoto.

Byakuya was able to handle himself and calm down after his abrupt awakening, reassuring himself over and over that it was all a dream. That it would never become reality. He had uttered those exact same words tonight to the boy in his arms so he wouldn’t dwell on the nightmare anymore. But now, inundated in his own thoughts, Byakuya wasn’t so sure. There was no way two people could share a dream so eerily identical. There had to be more to it.

Some kind of trick.

Some kind of catch.

Little did he and Makoto know that as soon as this semester was over, their lives would replicate those of their nightmares. Perhaps not the parts of them dying, but definitely the struggles... of despair.  


**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes dreams don’t make sense, right? So that’s why I decided to have Makoto (and the other students too I guess) not really know Genocide Jack’s true identity. But I mean, damn, Makoto is getting a lot of insight into their future lives, hmm? Byakuya too for that matter. Maybe the mastermind snuck into their rooms and played some tapes to get them to dream these things? Who knows? I leave it up to your individual imaginations. I just hope you all enjoyed this oneshot. :)


End file.
